The Copenhagen Interpretation
by Morgan Lewis
Summary: Or six scenarios that almost make sense until wave function collapse. A collection of six vignettes, one for each season, that couldn't possibly co-exist with each other outside of a probability cloud.


An apology from the author:

Honestly, there's no excuse for this. I understand that fanfiction is inherently self-indulgent and cross-over fanfictions even more so. But, cross-over fanfiction through 6 separate fandoms that goes borderline meta-textual. Apparently I wrote this solely for my muse's own entertainment and she has been going off her medication again. At any rate, for those of you that can derive some entertainment value out of this exercise, reviews, comments, criticisms, and prescription recommendations are always welcome.

**The Copenhagen Interpretation or Six Scenarios that Almost Make Sense until Wave Function Collapse**

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Season 1: The Attention of Those Infinitely your Greater

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Christian Shepherd slowly opened his eyes against the early morning sun. The first few moments of taking on a new form were always slightly disorienting and it had been some time since he had last done so. Jacob's followers were far too careful to leave the dead where he could reach them. He slowly pulled himself to a seated position and began brushing off various bits of debris. Yes, this form would suit his needs quite well for now. But, he had to move quickly if he wanted to counter Jacob's latest move.

Thick black smoke rose from the remnants of Oceanic 815 and he could hear the muted cries of her surviving passengers. The fact that there were survivors did not surprise him in the least. This species was like a cockroach, only a concentrated effort would truly result in their elimination. From the memories of his current host, he knew that his son and daughter were on this plane, though both remained blissfully unaware of each others existence. They would prove useful to his own plans.

He strode purposefully through the jungle, avoiding bits of strewn luggage and other personal items. Somewhere close by Jack lay unconscious. He was Christian's first priority, possibly one of the most important pieces is this latest little game they were playing. A rustling sound emanated from the undergrowth to his left. Christian smiled and whistled sharply. "Come here, come on," he called out to the rustling noise.

Within moments, a Golden Retriever broke free from the jungle growth and began to approach as Christian continued calling to him encouragingly. He went down to his knee and began stroking the dog's head affectionately. From his time on this world he had concluded that this particular breed of canine was only slightly less intelligent than the masters they served. Hopefully, that would be sufficient for him to carry out a few simple commands.

"Hey listen, I need you to go find my son," the dog looked back at him with questioning eyes. "He's over there in that bamboo forest, unconscious. I need you to go wake him up, okay?"

He gave the golden retriever one last friendly pat before sending him on his way. As he watch the bushy tail disappear between the tightly packed bushes he found himself murmuring, "He has work to do."

Christian sighed heavily before finding an old rotted log to rest upon. This body was not in the best of shape and his upcoming journey would certainly tax its strength. Plus, it appeared that his current host, as so many of the pathetic beings on this world, had a bit of a drinking problem. Christian shook his head disdainfully. The more time he spent on this wretched rock, the more he questioned his brethren insistence that this species in particular be monitored in preparation for the next cleansing. Even more confusing was Jacob's absolute fascination with them. A fascination which continually prompted him to act outside of their operating parameters. Oceanic 815 was simply the latest in a long succession of acts of defiance. He had no doubt that when they finally rejoined the others, there would be a reckoning.

Perhaps half an hour later, another man charged into the clearing and started upon seeing him. Christian merely appraised younger man calmly. He was not one of the survivors of the flight but rather one of Linus's acolytes. Ethan, if he was not mistaken. Christian had to admit, the human recovered from his initial shock quickly enough. If he had been one of the passengers he might have actually believed the next words out of his mouth.

"I....I woke up in the jungle, a little ways from here," he lied between gasping breaths. "Do...do you know if anyone else made it?"

Christian smiled. "I'm not one of the survivors of the flight."

Ethan's face creased in confusion. "You're not?"

"No," he said slowly rising from the log," I was dead long before the plane crashed. I imagine they loaded my body in Sydney."

Ethan's face slowly transformed into an expression of pure terror as understanding finally entered into his eyes," You..."

"Yes, me." Before the younger man could even react Christian was on him, pinning him to tree with his forearm pressed deep into the soft flesh of his neck.

"It never ceases to amaze me how weak and fragile your species is," the disdain dripped from his voice. "It wouldn't take that much more pressure to snap your neck." And he could kill this one without worrying about violating the rules. He was no candidate, not any more.

In that moment, Christian found an irrational anger building. For eons he had watched over this pathetic race, a tedious task in itself. Simply observing them from this specially prepared conduit, this island, would have tried the patience of any of his brethren. But Jacob continued to insist on bringing these useless creatures into his domain for closer study. For the longest time he had simply been confused. But that confusion had long since given way to anger and now this poor pathetic human conveniently provided an outlet for his rage.

"You still burn crude oil for energy. You have no idea how to harness Dark Energy and generate Mass Effect fields. You can't even get off of this planet much less leave this solar system." His eyes bored into the younger man. "Your lives are over in the blink of an eye. The cleansing begins in less than three-hundred years, yet Jacob still foolishly thinks you capable of accomplishing anything other than your own destruction in that time." His voice was steel, the fury of thousands of years finally unleashed.

"The cleansing?"

The human's eyes were full of horror now and Christian smiled cruelly. Yes, why not let the poor boy have a look at his future. His own people were quite fastidious when it came to records. They had built several devices, beacons filled with knowledge of the cleansing, and placed them across the universe. He doubted that this simple human's mind would be capable of supporting the information contained in even one of these beacons without breaking. But, Jacob seemed to think so highly of these creatures. Why not conduct his own test?

Christian felt his consciousness reach through the conduit and across the galaxy to a distant world where one such beacon lie dormant. He accessed the main archive before returning to this body with the information. "This is your end."

Ethan's eyes almost shot out of his head as the images streamed directly into his mind. Christian released the pathetic creature from his grasp as he flailed wildly. The older man felt a smirk forming on his face. As he had suspected, the knowledge proved too much for him. He closed the conduit, effectively halting the download of information. After a few moments, Ethan's desperate thrashing stilled.

Christian sighed deeply as he finally reigned in his anger. He still had plans for this man and the poor creature's mind was likely severely unbalanced now. Hopefully, there was enough left of him to be useful.

Kneeling in the dirt once more, he grabbed the back on the Ethan's head. "Now listen to me. About half a mile from here the survivors are gathering on the beach. My daughter is there with them. Her name is Claire." He waited until he saw a spark of recognition enter into the younger man's eyes. "I need you to protect her. She's pregnant."

"But.....the cleansing....those things.....it won't matter.....we....we are all going to die!"

Christian tightened his grip, once again frustrated with the frailty of this species. "No, that's only going to happen if you fail to keep her safe. Do you understand?"

Ethan closed his eyes and began shaking again. "Why did you show me this?"

"To prove a point." He hauled the shaken man back to his feet. "Now go. If you don't make the beach soon, you'll never be able to convince them that you are one of the survivors."

The human hardly needed any further encouragement as he fled into the jungle. Alone again, Christian looked eastward, towards the lighthouse, where Jacob was no doubt watching today's events with great interest. His colleague's obsession with these humans still confused him. But, in the end, it made no difference. Jacob had been similarly fascinated with the Protheans.

-

Season 2: Standard Perpetuity

-

At this point, Bernard was convinced that the net was simply mocking him. Yes, it was only an inanimate object and not truly capable of the spiteful emotions he was currently projecting onto it. But, after the things he had seen in both this life and his previous one, nothing was completely out of the realm of possibility.

"Oh for the love of... gah!" He exclaimed in frustration, while futilely pulling at the tangled mass. A series of rapid fire instructions in Korean quickly alerted him to the presence of someone who actually knew what they were doing.

He looked up at Jin's slightly exasperated face and quickly explained. "Oh no no no no. It's not for fish."

The Korean responded with another set of unintelligible commands before he could reply, "No no. Oysters."

Jin simply stared at him in confusion so he tried again, this time pantomiming a an opening and closing oyster with his hands before then reaching into the palm of his right hand. "Pearl, for Rose. Pearl."

The younger man nodded his head in understanding and followed up with another string of foreign words, this time breaking them up with, "No oyster, no oyster here."

Bernard felt his heart sink. Well there went that idea. "No, of course not, why would there be."

Bernard shook his head as the fisherman returned to his own nets. He waited until Jin's back was to him before calling out, "I know we never met while I was at the firm, but I knew about you and I know you know who I am."

His words had their intended effect. Jin froze as if ice water had been poured down his shirt. "I understand why you have kept up the pretense, considering our current situation, but I think the time for that has passed."

Suddenly the younger man was on top of him, violently grabbing his shirt collar. "If you want to drop pretenses fine. Why don't you start by telling me where the hell we are and how we got here.

Bernard just smiled at Jin's suddenly perfect English. "Honestly, I haven't the faintest clue. The senior partners never explained more to me than they thought was necessary."

"You think I believe that?" Jin shook him angrily. "You were a legend at the firm. Even after the incident in the wine cellar no one dared question you or your actions. So don't try to tell me you don't know what is going on to us."

Bernard calmly removed the younger man's hands from his shirt. "I have my theories. You don't spend the time I did at the L.A. branch without uncovering a few secrets." Bernard grinned serenely knowing it would unnerve the other man. "But you don't need me to tell you what you already know. You know where we are. Maybe not exactly where, but you have the general idea."

The color slowly drained from Jin's face and Bernard couldn't resist giving him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "Chin up soldier. It could have been a lot worse. We could have ended up on June Cleaver's street getting our hearts cut out twice a day."

Bernard returned to that tangled mess of a net while Jin tried desperately to compose himself. "But, I don't understand. Why?"

"Other than the fact that we are still under contract?" he replied while picking at a particularly stubborn knot. "Perhaps it's a reward, perhaps it's a punishment, perhaps we are just rats running in a huge maze for the Senior Partner's entertainment.

"What I do know is that right now, right here, in this place," he gestured to the island around them before returning to his net. "I'm happy. I have the love of an incredible woman who puts up with me even when I forget her birthday. I have some nice little beach front property. And I have a significantly fewer number of enemies who would like to see me dead."

Jin stared at him in stunned silence, slowly absorbing everything he had just told him. "You know, from all the legends I heard about you, I would have never thought you the sentimental type."

Bernard smirked. "Well, I did have a reputation to maintain."

"Sill, I don't understand," Jin was shaking his head again. "How can you be so content with all of ......this, knowing that any second the senior partners could take it all away from you."

"And they probably will. That is their way, after all." He finally gave up on the net, dropping it to the sand with a disgusted sound. "I learned long ago that there is nothing, and I mean nothing the firm can't take away from you. So, I learned to simply enjoy each gift while it lasted."

Fear was creeping back into the younger man's eyes as he considered the implications. Perhaps now he was ready to hear a little home grown truth. "However, you may not have much to worry about in that regard."

Jin stared at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

"The greatest punishments are the ones we create for ourselves," he smiled in memory. "And believe me, I've tried to match self-inflicted torture on many different occasions and there just isn't anything that can quite compare to good old-fashioned loathing of your own being."

He gave the net one last frustrated kick before continuing. "My point is, you don't have to worry about the senior partners taking Sun away from you. You're doing a damn fine job losing her all on your own."

Jin stared at him for a long time before responding in a measured voice. "Why are you telling me this? What does it benefit you?"

Bernard simply smiled again. "You know my reputation. I may have been ruthless, petty, vindictive, and unnecessarily cruel, but I took my role as a mentor to the younger partners seriously. There's no reason we can't be happy, even in hell."

"Yo! Daddio!!" Both men jerked their heads up in surprise as Sawyer approached.

"Sawyer, "Jin replied without much enthusiasm, quickly dropping into his old speech patterns.

Bernard simply nodded to Jin as Sawyer continued on, oblivious to their discussion. Hopefully the younger man would take his words to heart. It would be a shame if he didn't. After all, they only had a few years until Illyria or a Hydrogen bomb detonation. And after either incident, all bets were off as to which reality they would inhabit next.

-

Season 3: Memories that Become Legend

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Elayne Trakand had the distinct impression that Birgitte had been avoiding her all day. Well, maybe not avoiding her specifically. From what she little could tell from that tight little ball of emotions bundled in the back of her mind, she got the distinct impression that Birgitte didn't particularly want to be around anyone right at this moment. Usually, that simple fact lead to one inescapable conclusion, her Warder was once again moping over Gaidal Cain. Typically, these bouts of depression were rare enough that Elayne felt it only fair to indulge the older woman her privacy and allow her to mourn in her own way. However, Birgitte had been hiding out in the palace for the better part of the day and Elayne felt that enough was enough. So, she had collected Aviendha for moral support and together with a bottle of fine Murandy Rum she set off to find her wayward Warder.

With the aid of the ever present bond, it took them little time to track her down to one of the upper balconies overlooking Caemlyn's gardens. The tall blond woman had been aware of her approach for some time and greeted her with a questioning stare, especially upon seeing the bottle of rum. Elayne shrugged offering her warder one of the three glasses she had brought with her. "I think we should celebrate."

Two hours and half of a bottle later Elayne was beginning to wonder if she was on the only one of the three that had been drinking. She was convinced that Aviendha possessed a hollow leg for all the effect the drink was having on her. And despite her best efforts, Birgitte seemed to be settling back into a deep melancholy. Usually Elayne felt it best to find ways to distract her warder from thoughts of her lost lover. But, some instinct told her that perhaps tonight a different tact might be more effective. "Tell us about one of your adventures with Gaidal, one that even legend itself has forgotten."

Birgitte gave her an odd stare and for a moment Elayne questioned the wisdom of her words. But that same stubborn nature her mother so often displayed compelled her to continue. "Please, I was raised on gleeman tales of Birgitte Silverbow and the legendary swordsman Gaidal Cain. The story of your love was among my favorites as a child."

The legend simply smirked in reply and returned to her glass of rum. "The truth is, your stories are probably more interesting than mine. The retelling always makes legends entertaining. And it sounds as if our story has been retold many many times."

"Well then, tell us one we haven't heard," Elayne replied with her cutest pout.

Birgitte barked a laugh. "You really have had too much rum if you think that is going to work on me, save it for Rand."

Elayne felt a brief flutter in her heart simply at the mention of his name. One she quickly stamped down with annoyance. She was not some moonstruck girl would swoon simply at the mention of his Rand's name. Unfortunately, she had not moved to quell the emotion quickly enough.

Birgitte smirked at the brief flurry sensed through the bond. "Light girl, but does he have you tangled. I swear you would spend all your time daydreaming of his face if you could."

Elayne felt her face flaming. She crossed her arms under her breast and attempted to sniff disdainfully. "Like you have been daydreaming all day of Gaidal Cain, at least Rand's face is one that is easy to dream about."

Aviendha's hissed laugh shook the young princess into a sober realiziation. She really had drunk to much rum. Elayne quickly opened her mouth to apologize.

But, Birgitte just waved her off with a easy smile and casual gesture. "I know that in his last few incarnations Gaidal has not embodied your typical views of masculine beauty. But there was a life, long ago when he was as handsome and dashing as a Gaelyn Highlord."

She could see the older woman's eyes glazing over as she became lost in a distant memory. Elayne squashed the urge to ask what a Gaelyn Highlord was. Birgitte had this habit of throwing out references that no one seemed to understand. Instead, she choose to focus on the topic at hand. "So, when you met this Gaelyn Highlord, was it love at first sight?"

The older woman broke into a wicked smile. "Of course not, I struck him down with a lightning ter'angreal."

"Lightning ter'angreal?"

Birgitte just waved her hand again and took another sip of her rum. "Oh, he was fine. Just stunned and my people had to carry him back to his cage."

"Cage?" That question came from Aviendha.

The older woman shrugged. "Well he was trying to escape at the time."

Elayne frowned. She knew the legends spoke of them disliking each other before falling in love. Also, she wanted to know more about his lightning ter'angreal. Something like that could prove very useful if she could find a way to re-create it. However, she forcefully reminded herself to stay on the subject at hand. Once she had cheered up her warder they could revisit the topic. "So, your first meeting did nothing to endear you to each other?"

He warder chuckled. "Not really, no. To make matters worse, we soon had him breaking and hauling rocks and he understandably didn't appreciate being used as slave labor. I did try to make it up to him the next day by offering him some extra water beyond what we were rationing the prisoners."

Aviendha nodded in her approval. "He must have seen the honor in such a gracious gesture."

The blonde woman smirked in response. "Actually, he dumped the water out at my feet and then proceeded to take out four guards before we subdued him."

"But, these are the actions of two enemies who have sworn blood oaths against each other." The look of pure shock on the Aiel woman's face was almost comical. "Were your clans openly warring?"

The blond-haired woman grimaced in reply. "It was a complicated situation. And my people weren't really in the right. I eventually helped him escape then joined his people to deal with a greater threat. Our relationship remained...... strained for some time."

"How strained?"

Birgitte smirked and began ticking off items on her hand. "Well, he and one of his friends cornered and threatened to torture me for information, he arranged to have another one of his friends constantly spy on me, and he attempted to organize a lynch mob against me." Elayne was amazed at the woman's indifferent grin. "That last one almost worked. Fortunately I had a few friends of my own to help diffuse the situation."

The sudden admissions stunned the young princess into silence as Birgitte finished yet another glass of rum. Even though the older woman didn't appear a hair drunker than she had been a few hours ago, Elayne was beginning to wonder. "I really don't understand see how this story is going to end with the two of you falling in love."

"You would be surprised," Birgitte was already refilling her glass. "We had to start working together and quickly found that while we didn't particularly care for each other, we enjoyed trading quips and trying to verbally best one another. He loved coming up with nicknames to try to get under my skin. And I enjoyed taunting him with questions that even I didn't know the answers to." Her eyes once again glossed over in memory. "But, even then, we probably never would have even become friends were it not for the fact that we were left behind by both our people. We still didn't particularly like each other, but we needed one other if we wanted to survive."

Birgitte's smile was softening now into a look that Elayne knew all too well. "At some point he realized he trusted me......I had his back. I don't know when exactly that trust became something more, but I do remember the moment it became more important to me than I had ever thought possible."

Both Aviendha and Elayne had fallen silent again. It was almost as if they were children once again eagerly listening to a gleeman's tales. "I was going to leave. I had booked passage the very next day to leave that island and never come back. He wanted to stay and continue searching for his friends. He tried to convince me not to leave, cajole me into staying. Finally, he simply asked for fourteen days."

Birgitte shook her head in silent wonder. "Somehow those fourteen days turned into three years. The best three years of that life."

The warmth from that bundle of emotions momentarily threatened to overwhelm her. Once again, he thoughts unconsciously drifted to Rand. If he had ever asked her for fourteen days she would have gladly given him her entire lifetime.

"So, what happened next?" she urged her warder to continue.

The archer's expression fell and Elayne could feel that tight ball of emotion grow cold. Silently Elayne cursed her own foolishness. Of course, their legend always ended in tragedy.

-

Season 4: And Relative Dimension in Space

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Miles Straum did not jump out of helicopters, or airplanes, or buildings or any other location that tended to reside over ten feet off of the ground. He had communed with far too many spirits who had met their ends at gravity's harsh embrace. And from what he had gathered from them, it seemed like one of the more painful ways to leave this life. Yet, in spite of his own personal rule, he somehow found himself strapping on a parachute and diving out of what he still thought was a perfectly good helicopter, lightning strike be damned. Damn Widmore and damn his one point six million offer. He was beginning to think he really should have held out for three.

Even with the with the parachute slowing his descent, impact was painful and Miles found himself losing consciousness for several minutes. Blinding pain greeted him on his return to the world of the waking. Pain and a pair of highly inquisitive brown eyes.

"Gah!" Miles scurried backwards from those eyes, which happened to reside in a face that appeared entirely too cheerful right at this moment. He desperately fumbled through his pack, looking for the handgun Keamy's goons had issued him before their departure.

"Ah no no no, there's no need for that," the cheerful man insisted. He was wearing a long brown duster that clashed oddly with his blue pinstripe suit. "I saw you take a bit of a tumble and just figured I'd do the neighborly thing and make sure you were all right."

Miles calmed his breathing as his hand drew the gun from his satchel. He didn't aim it towards his sudden companion, but rested his thumb on the safety catch just to be safe. "Are you one of the survivors of Oceanic 815?"

The man made a derisive sound. "Do I look like someone who would ride in a plane. No, air turbulence makes me nauseous. Which is odd when you think about it because temporal turbulence makes me peckish. Possibly has something to do with the difference between fluid dynamics and space time....."

"Okay, who are you then?" Miles managed to pull himself to a seated position. He had a headache brewing and this guy wasn't helping that situation at all.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Just 'the Doctor'?"

"Just the Doctor," he replied with a cheeky grin and a wink.

"Okay, Doctor, if you aren't one of the survivors of Oceanic 815, then who the hell are you?" Maybe this guy was a native that could give him some information on Ben Linus. The quicker he could find his mark the quicker he could get paid.

"Oh I was just passing through really. Needed to fill up the old girl's tank. " The Doctor jerked his thumb over his shoulder at an odd blue box that Miles had not noticed until that moment. The vintage structure was so out of place among the windswept cliffs that Miles had to wonder for a moment just how hard he had hit his head on landing.

"Normally I like to stop off in Cardiff. Nice big temporal rift for her to snack on there. But Variety is the spice of life. And I must say," The taller man gestured grandly to the area around him. "This place. Wow. I can't believe I never noticed it before. A tiny island balanced right in the middle a of a class four temporal phase inversion countering with a time shift differential."

He was grinning like an excited child now. "I just had to drop by and take a look."

Miles made a mental note never to leave this guy and Daniel alone in the same room together. "Well, I'm glad you are fascinated. But my....friends....are going to be here soon. So you might want to have a better explanation of who you are and why you are here. Because, they aren't nearly as patient as...." He trailed off when he noticed that his companion had suddenly become engrossed in studying a group of stones. "Hey! are you listening to me?"

The Doctor looked up, seemingly startled from his thoughts. "Sorry, just noticed something about the sub-atomic vibration patterns of this place....they're not quite....but that would mean....no, couldn't be....I mean the walls are closed I made certain of that....I would have known if I had slipped through....unless.....Noooo....."

He jerked to his feet so suddenly that Miles reflexively drew his gun on the gangly man. His companion held his hands out away from his body in as non-threatening a gesture he could manage while the expression on his face reflected that of a deep discomfiture.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think I should be here." His brow knitted together in deep concentration. "Something has happened here, or is happening, or will happen to set the timeline in a state of quantum flux, I don't think I could have come here otherwise. But I need to leave, quickly, before I encounter the apex of events and my observation has a deterministic effect."

He turned to leave once more prompting Miles to his feet. "Hey. Hey! Wait up, you aren't going anywhere! Not until you've answered my questions."

The Doctor simply continued walking back up the hill towards the strange blue box. Miles swore under his breath and gave chase after the thin man, pulling his parachute along with him. Despite the added drag, he managed to close the distance between them in a few moments.

"I said stop!" he yelled while reaching out the grab the other the Doctor's arm. In that moment, he knew he had made a mistake. Images bombarded him, voices, sights, sounds. A million dead faces stared up at him as the very skies burned.

Miles dropped to his knees, momentarily overwhelmed. The images just continued. He saw this man, heard his voice, watch him die, not once but several times. Each time he wore a different face, but it remained the same man. He saw him die of old age, head trauma, a gunshot wound complicated by surgery, poison, a fatal dose of some kind of energy he didn't understand. Miles stared up at the Doctor's face in confusion. But he no longer simply saw the young man with brown eyes and wild straw hair. He saw an aging austere gentleman, an impatient professor, a manic curly redhead, a calculating grim visage, a long sad angry face. Each image came and went causing the world to tilt on its axis. This man, this strange man carried the spirits of so many dead with him. They clung to him like rats on a rotted plank adrift in a stormy sea.

The Doctor was kneeling over him now gingerly scanning him with some strange device. "Sorry about that. Acute necro-pathic activity in the frontal lobes I see. I can't imagine that makes me very much fun to be around."

Miles shook his head and managed to gasp. "No.....no it doesn't."

Sudden, he no longer cared who this man was. He just wanted him gone. He wanted him and the millions of dead he carried with him as far away from him as possible. Then he just wanted to curl up in his parachute and forget about this whole damned adventure.

"Just go," he managed to wheeze.

The Doctor slowly rose to his feet, his face solemn. "I'm so sorry."

Miles finally felt his head begin to clear as the man put some distance between them. The young medium waited until his the Doctor had drawn a key from his pocket before calling out, "I've never met a man who died nine times."

The Doctor simply shrugged and opened the door to that blue box. For some reason, Miles felt compelled to add, "You are going to die again soon."

The Doctor turned back to him with a face as old and haunted as the universe. "I know."

-

Season 5: Darkest Before Dawn.

-

Richard could barely feel the paper in his hands. So how was it that it still seemed so damned heavy? How could this one insignificant slip of parchment so starkly represent all of his failures and short-comings of the past two years? Just reading through the last few paragraphs induced physical pain in his chest. With a sigh, he let the cursed paper slip from his fingers and slowly leaned back in his chair. An untouched glass of scotch beckoned him its place on the corner of his desk. In previous days, he would have long since given into the glass's invitation. But, since the passing of the Commissioner, the drink had lost many of its previous charms.

He massaged the bridge of his nose for a few more moments before looking up at his executive assistant. "The final draft is fine Marcy. Please see that a copy is submitted to my press secretary for the announcement this afternoon."

"Of course, Mr. Mayor," she replied nervously. He could see the barely restrained panic lurking behind her stiffly held posture. But then, they had all been in a state of barely restrained panic for the last few days. The hell that madman unleashed on their city for the last week would not afford any of them a good night's sleep anytime soon.

"Also, your 2:30 canceled, but a representative from the Mittelos Bio-research firm is asking for some time to discuss city grants." His head snapped up sharply at the old familiar name and Marcy nearly jumped back at his reaction, hurriedly adding, "I tried to tell him that city funding was largely going to be diverted to disaster relief and that there just wasn't room in the fiscal budget, but he was very.....convincing. Insisting that you and he were old friends and that you would want to at least hear his proposal..."

"It's all right, Marcy," He held up his hand in a calming gesture. "Please, show him in."

The young woman didn't look re-assured in the least. But she nodded, and quickly turned towards the door. Richard rose slowly from his chair, taking the glass of scotch with him. He drifted over towards the window to look out across his city. A city that he had largely failed. He knew it was probably his imagination, but he could swear he still saw a faint smear of blood on the outside of the glass from where the body had been thrown against it four days ago. Maintenance had done everything short of replacing the glass afterward.

"Hello Richard." Alpert didn't even need to look up from the window to confirm his suspicions.

"Please be careful with that name, Jacob," he sighed finally taking a sip from his glass. "I'm known by another here and it took a lot of effort to establish this identity."

From the corner of his eye he saw Jacob approach his desk and reach for that damned slip of paper. Richard felt an almost irrational desire to snatch it from him and hide the condemning document in his desk. Instead, he took another pull form his glass, draining it.

"Your official resignation from the office of Mayor." How he could make that statement sound like a question and an accusation at the same time was beyond Richard. He had observed the man for hundreds of years and he still remained a mystery to him most days.

He irritably walked to his liquor cabinet and began pouring another scotch. "Whatever I thought I could accomplish here.... well, I've failed and I need to make way for someone who can pick up the pieces."

"Will you return to the Island?"

Richard continued to stare into his glass, strangely unable to meet Jacob's gaze. "Yes. I've heard there has been some activity in Tunisia again. Events are in motion and I need to be there to make certain everything is ready."

Jacob nodded in understanding. "I have a task for you to perform before your return."

"Of course." Even now he spoke the words without hesitation.

"I fear that our wayward disciple had descended to actions of which I had hoped he was incapable."

Richard felt his brow creasing in confusion, surely he couldn't be speaking about .... " I was under the impression that he had been dead for almost a year, dealt with by our 'local' friend."

Jacob shook his head sadly. "The Demon's Head meets his fate at the hands of very symbol he helped create. Poetic perhaps, but even death itself would prove only a minor obstacle while he still has the full support of my brother." Jacob sighed. "And, he had been building temples, perverting the gift of the waters of life."

Richard felt his legs grow weak at the implications. He sat in his chair heavily, almost spilling his drink. "But.....how..."

Jacob waved his hand. "That's not important. What is important is that I have located one of his temples with one of his corrupted pools." He laid a thick beige folder on Richards desk, next to the letter. " And I need you to destroy it for me."

"I understand." Richard hesitated. He rarely questioned Jacob's decisions even the more outlandish requests. But as he flipped open the folder and began perusing its contents, he couldn't help but ask, "Pardon me for saying, but wouldn't our 'local' friend be more suited to this kind of task. He's already shown himself more than capable of dealing with D...."

"I'm afraid he is unavailable," Jacob cut him off. He shifted on his feet and Richard was amazed to realize that Jacob actually looked uncomfortable. "He is currently staring into the abyss, trying to understand it." Jacob wearily sat down across from him. "I fear this obsession will soon provide my brother with the means to strike out in vengeance for the loss of his own disciple.

A heavy silence settled across Richards office. For the last few years, since he had been arrived in this city and run for Mayor, he and Jacob had been avoiding the elephant in the room and Richard found that he was tired of avoidance. "Why does he not recognize me?"

Jacob's polite yet intense gaze was not enough to deter him. "The Captain that dogged us for weeks until you brought the Black Rock to the island. It was not simply a odd resemblance, they are one and the same man. They wear the same symbol. Yet, he did not recognize me, either now or then. Why?"

Another silence settled over the room and Richard was convinced that once again Jacob was simply going to ignore his question. He growled in frustration and returned to the window and his view of his broken city.

"Zur en Arhh." The phrase was barely a whisper that he had to strain his ears to hear.

For the first time in over a hundred years he felt his frustration actually boiling into anger. He turned on Jacob. "You've said that before, but you never tell me what it means. How does that explain how he was there hundreds of years ago and here now?"

Jacob smiled that old soft disarming smile that still calmed Richard down in spite of himself. "I never tell you because it's true meaning is hidden even from me. Though that fact will not stop my brother from using it against him."

Jacob stood and began walking towards the door. "I just know that it will be important to him. That as he faces each life turning darker and more hopeless than the last, as he fights his way across history itself to regain what Gods and Devils would strip from him, it is important."

Jacob stopped at the door and looked back one last time. "But for now, he stares into the abyss, and my brother waits. Destroy the temple and meet me at the island." And then he was gone.

Richard turned to stair back out at his city, the same city he would abandon this evening. He finishes his second and final scotch. A man he had called friend had assured them that the dawn was coming and perhaps he was right. But Richard would not stay to see it arrive.

-

Season 6: All of this Has Happened Before

-

Oceanic 815 had arrived a little over an hour ago and the airport was still buzzing with the additional foot traffic that an international flight typically brings. This flight in particular had born with it more intrigue than most and anyone who cared enough to glance up from their own personal detachment would find no fewer than four separate compelling human dramas playing out in that very moment. The being who had come to think of himself as simply the messenger grinned smugly as he took a deep puff from his ever present cigar. He stretched languidly on a airport bench while expelling the sweet smoke from his lungs before turning casually to his ever present companion.

"I know that you said repeating a complex system often enough would yield surprising results. But I have to admit, this turn of events was truly unexpected."

The tall blond woman leveled a dark glare at him before responding. "Gloating doesn't become you."

"Now there is no need to pout. We still have to see how this plays out. Humanity could yet prove your faith in them founded." The messenger practically leaped from his perch as a familiar figure caught his attention. "Look at it this way, how often will we be afforded the opportunity to watch people literally relive their past mistakes. There is great scientific value in each observation."

The taller woman's face grew cold. "I find no value in watching people repeat their mistakes."

"Think of it as the ultimate closed system experiment." He impulsively grabbed her and drew her down the hallway until they had arrived at the missing luggage section of Oceanic. "Take our present subject for example, John Locke."

He could see that she wanted to protest already but did not give her the chance. "In this life, he has the love of a woman, the respect of his father, a greater standing in his community."

"He is still in the chair," she responded quickly.

He made a slightly exasperated sound. "Surely we can agree that his existence is measurably improved in this iteration. Yet, despite these obvious advantages he still feels consumed by the need to seek out a greater meaning for his life. He still feels compelled to distill some greater destiny from the cross-section of humanity that is his world. And he still rails against fate for telling him what he can't do."

He felt that he almost had her now, but he should have expected her stubborn streak. "You can't reach any meaningful conclusion by limiting your experiment on one case study."

He was about to retort when his eyes caught the outline of yet another familiar individual. "Very well, let us expand our observation." He gestured grandly to Jack Shepherd, who was currently involved in an animated conversation on his phone.

Once again, she opened her mouth to protest before he overrode her. "In this life, he is perpetuating the same insecurities that destroyed his first marriage and his potential relationship with Ms. Austin. Only now, he is visiting those same insecurities upon his son, effectively continuing the same vicious cycle that he shared with his own father." He smirked at his companion's stony gaze. "Truly the sins of the fathers are visited upon their children."

"Are you quite done?"

"Oh come now, we've barely even started."

"Well then, I could point out the countless of lives that will change for the better because various individuals chose not to revisit their past mistakes." Now it was her turn to forestall him as he attempted to reply, "But, as you seem to wish to make these two the focal point of your initial observation, why don't we wait and see how this particular meeting between the two plays out before reaching any final judgments?"

The messenger gave another exasperated sigh. "You know, after all of our time together, I had thought your newly developed optimism would prove a refreshing change."

"You are saying that it does not?"

He shook his head sadly. "After all we have seen, everything we have experienced, I just can't seem to get my mind around your sense of hope. I mean look at them." He gestured towards the two men who now seemed to be involved in a discussion regarding their mutually lost luggage.

Her expression changed to one of genuine curiosity. "Do you think that they can sense that this is not their first meeting, despite what their memory tells them?"

"It's hard to say," he conceded while lighting another cigar. "They've unleashed Pandora's box. Even we can't see the extent of the possibilities they have created."

"Considering the uncertainty we face, you seem awfully quick to reach your typically fatalistic conclusions."

The messenger simply shrugged. True, he was dealing with a great deal of unknowns at the given moment. Yet, there was something significant to this scene before them, this innocuous meeting between two strangers. Something that brushed against his mind, like the fading remnant of a dream from long ago. A juxtaposition of thousands of lives and events that were simultaneously familiar and wildly out of place defied his ability to reconcile them with his own memories. It gave him the most unsettling feeling that nothing, not even this very moment, was set in stone. Reality stretched before them as simply another vague possibility in an endless wave function of possibilities. God would play his dice with the universe and, sooner or later, it all had to collapse.

"I wonder if this ever truly happened." he said without really thinking.

The blond woman gave him a surprised look. He held her gaze for a moment before shaking his head and smiling. He waved his hand dismissively and turned his attention back to their two subjects. Shepherd was handing John a business card and talking about a free consultation. John smiled politely as he graciously accepted the offer. The messenger felt his brow crease in confusion. This was not the way he had expected this particular confrontation to conclude.

His companion was smiling triumphantly. "Nothing is irreversible. Do those sound like the words of a man destined to repeat his mistakes."

He shrugged. "We'll have to wait to see if his actions are consistent with his words." She was going to be insufferable now.

"Face it, God's plan accommodates for human nobility far more than you do."

He sighed one final time, wrapping his arm around her waist. "You know he doesn't like that name."


End file.
